I Already Have A Cat
by procol harum
Summary: Doug/Tom slash... Doug wants a cat and doesn't understand when Tom says that he already has one... I own nothing
1. I Already Have A Cat

**Doug wants a cat and doesn't understand when Tom says he already has one...**

_I own nothing_

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"I want a cat."

Four words spoken suddenly, out of the blue; a completely random bit of information. At least to Tom Hanson it was. To Doug Penhall, it was probably the most important thing in his life at the moment.

""Yeah-?" Tom replied cautiously, not sure what he was getting himself into.

"What do you mean yeah?" Doug asked. "I want a cat. We should get a cat."

"Doug, I don't-"

"Please," Doug broke in, making sure his voice was high-pitched, with an extremely lame attempt at Tom's infamous pout.

"Cats are-" Tom started, trying to reason with Doug at how bad an idea getting a cat would be. Cats were what, though? Messy; Doug was messy. They needed food. A lot; Doug needed food. A lot. They left fur ever- Tom stopped for a second; the fur being left everywhere would fit into the messy category. Okay, so they were messy and needed food. And so did Doug. Tom didn't need a cat; he already had Doug. The older man loved Tom's attention and giving attention, he was messy, needed food and could be annoying. All were traits of a cat. So why did Tom need one?

"But Doug," Tom whined, jutting out his lower lip. "I already have a cat." That would definitely confuse Doug.

"You do?" Doug asked, surprised. "Where?"

Tom made his way over to his boyfriend, smiling playfully. He wrapped his arms around the other man and whispered. "Not a real one. I don't want a real one."

"But then-" Doug started, but Tom cut him off, "You're like a cat, though."

"So I'm a cat now?" Doug chuckled. "Thanks."

"No seriously," Tom replied, "Think about it; you are messy, love attention, beg-"

"If I beg enough," Doug broke in, "And gave you plenty of attention, and made it messy-" A smile played on Doug's lips as Tom looked up at him curiously. "Then could I have a cat?" he finished.

"What?" Tom asked, confused. He didn't understand-

"Oh," Tom replied, smiling mischievously; he understood now. "You'd better make it fucking awesome then," he whispered. "And then; then we'll see. 'Cause havin' a cat is a big responsibility and-"

"Yeah, yeah, Tommy, quit your naggin'" Doug replied, grabbing Tom around the waist and pulling him over his shoulder; Tom squealed in surprise and Doug laughed, "C'mon Tommy, let's go get me a cat."


	2. The Perfect Name

**So... I finally wrote another chapter...**

not sure I've replied these anon reviews... :

rubydoo: thanks, glad you like

MK: glad you like

sugarbabe: glad you like

_I own nothing_

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"I am not naming it Sir Meows A Lot, Doug. Nobody would name their cat that!" 

"C'mon Tommy, cats meows – it's a perfect name," Doug argued. "Or how about Sir Fluffy?"

"It's not fluffy Doug!" Tom yelled, annoyed. The small puff of orange curled up in Doug's arms jumped at the sudden outburst and Doug glared at Tom. "Look at that, you scared Sir-"

"It's not a he," Tom broke in, lowering his voice. "She is a she; not a sir!"

The cat jumped again and Doug had to tighten his grip to keep it from falling. "Stop yellin' Tommy, you're scarin' her. "

"Just think of a normal name," Tom urged, looking at the cat now staring awkwardly at him. "And she's staring at me, Doug. You think she wants to attack me?"

"Maybe," Doug replied. "But if you stop yelling and be nice, then maybe she'll like you."

"I am nice," Tom argued. "But that's a cat. What am I supposed to do?"

"Hold her. Or at least pet her."

"But-"

"C'mon, she's not gonna bite you. She's nice," Doug replied, readjusting his arms so he could pet the cat. "See?" he said when the cat mewed in appreciation and rubbed her head against Doug's hand. "She likes me 'cause I carried her here, pet her, and haven't yelled."

"Yeah, yeah," Tom muttered. "But we should go buy her food."

"We got food here," Doug replied, starting to rub the cat's stomach. She purred again and he laughed.

"People food, Doug. We have _people_ food."

"So?" Doug replied, glancing at Tom before leaning over and allowing his new pet to jump out of his arms onto the floor. She shook her body slightly before walking off towards their bedroom slowly, nose to the ground.

"I thought dogs did that," Doug said, watching as the cat stopped at the wall and began sniffing it.

"I guess cats do too," Tom replied. "I mean, she's never been here before; she has to check things out."

"Yeah, true. What about Orange?"

"She can't eat oranges, either Doug. She nee-"

"I meant for a name," Doug broke in, laughing. "We don't have any oranges, anyways."

"Orange? Are you serious?" Tom laughed and shook his head. "Look at that, she's gone, now. Even she doesn't like the name."

"Oh ha ha," Doug replied sarcastically. "If you're so smart, than why don't you think of a name."

"I don't know, Tigger?"

Doug began laughing and Tom glared at him. "Well it's better than Orange," he replied coldly. "Damn, this should be the easiest thing to figure out."

"Hey, I came up with three," Doug argued. "You only came up with one."

"Yours don't count," Tom whined. "You wanted her to be a sir, and Orange? Why would you name a cat a colour?"

"Because the cat is orange!" Doug replied loudly, annoyed. Tom was right, though: coming up with a name should have been easy.

"Let's just go get the food, and maybe we'll have something when we get back, alright?" Tom offered. "I mean, maybe you'll see a red sign or another fruit-"

"Very funny," Doug cut in. "And maybe you'll see another cartoon char-" Doug stopped suddenly, a smile forming on his lips. "I got the perfect name, I swear."

"Oh I'm sure you do," Tom replied sarcastically.

"I do," Doug replied.

"Well, what is it?" Tom urged, heading towards the apartment door. He was sure that whatever Doug came up with couldn't be that good, and felt no reason to wait around for an answer.

"C'mon Tommy, it's good!" Doug called out, following the younger man.

"So say it," Tom replied. "We gotta go out, though, so tell me while we walk."

"Oh, okay," Doug replied as Tom opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. "How about Tigger?"

Tom stopped suddenly and turned to face Doug. "You have got to be kidding me," he replied slowly, staring into Doug's eyes for any hint of amusement. Thee was nothing there, though, except for swirls of hazel seriousness shining brightly I the dimly lit hallway.

"Nope," Doug replied, a smile forming. "I think it's a _great_ name."


End file.
